Wednesday, October 18, 2006


This is the time to start thinking about Christmas letters and I know you all get the ones that list all the glorious achievements of families you know. They are hysterically funny at times, and I always try to read between the lines and imagine the reality in the "perfect" homes. I get loads every year, and I love them, but no-one EVER tells you when things go wrong. I mean, when last did you hear that someone's teenagers needed a stint in bootcamp? Or that little Jimmy was proving to be useless at football. Or that it was quite clear that little Susie was not destined to be a ballerina? That you could do with a visit from Supernanny? That Johnny failed his driving test? Sometimes I think of sending out one of all the disasters of the year instead. (Or just an email with my blog address instead and then they can read the bits they want to.)

Life is not rosy all the time. I am not perfect. I don't have perfect children. Great kids, but not perfect. I have not written a blockbuster. Just a blog. I am not glamorous. My nailvarnish is chipped. The highlights need re-doing. My house is generally chaotic. And it suits me. I have a normal family, and live a normal life. It is the sense of humour and the laughter that makes the difference. It is interesting and never boring. "Stuff" goes on here, and everyone knows they are always welcome........ people matter more than things here. They just clear things out the way and find somewhere to sit. After they have made themselves coffee.

And yes, I have done my letter already. Well, I wrote it and emailed it to daughter at the other side of the world, and she did magical things to it so it now looks terribly impressive. Everyone will think I am a genius. She knows how to do the complicated things I can only dream of. Did I ever mention that she taught me how to do a power point presentation while on messenger one night?? I kept wailing that it didn't work, and so she sent me "Mum's idiot's guide to powerpoint". It worked. Daughters can be very useful.

Back to my newsletter. I am sending mine out in November. The events of the year do not make for jolly festive reading, so I thought I would be considerate and send it before the trees go up, and the mince pies are baked. That way I won't depress everyone when they are expecting to be amused by my perfect family's glorious year. I should change the title to " If we can survive this year, we can do anything".

1 comment:

your daughter said...

I am perfect.
Apart from my hair.
I blame you for that part.